


If We Hold on Together

by ChElFi



Series: I Don't Dance [28]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anniversary, Captain Hill - Freeform, Day 28, Established Relationship, F/M, Humor, Humorous Ending, Maria POV, Married Couple, Married Sex (inferred), POV Female Character, Single POV, doing something ridiculous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 03:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2372657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChElFi/pseuds/ChElFi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Happy Anniversary to my favorite OTP. Seriously. Happy. Really. I swear. You can trust me. This time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If We Hold on Together

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Day 28 Doing Something Ridiculous. Now that's a funny prompt. Seriously. I promise. :) Actually, I promise no more real angst at all. Only referenced angst. The rest of the stories will be all fluffy and mushy. Just to prove to myself I can write that. Not saccharin-y, though. That, I don't know if I can do. ;)
> 
> Title from the Diana Ross song of the same name.
> 
> Thanks for all the reviews, follows, etc.

Maria woke to the goose bumps on her bare back in the wake of Steve's kisses. She could tell from the light in the room that it was mid-morning. She had never been one for sleeping in before they'd had Hope. Now, as much as her body craved it, it was rare to have the opportunity.

But Hope was spending a few days with her best friend, Mia Stark, enjoying the indoor pool at The Avengers Tower and, if last night's goodnight phone conversation was any indication, the four-year-old hardly noticed her parents' absence. A lot of parents would probably feel bad about that, but Maria was glad for her daughter's independent spirit. It would serve her well growing up in her parents' shadow.

Steve had reached the base of her spine and was now rolling her over to start a return trip up the front of her body when Maria's stomach rumbled.

They both laughed and Steve sat up and took her hand to pull her with him.

"Happy Anniversary," he said, as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her softly on her lips.

Maria leaned into the kiss, but then they heard Steve's stomach.

Pulling away, she laughed, then touched him on the face.

"Happy Anniversary," she said.

He helped her up off the bed and slipped her robe over her shoulders before pulling on his own.

When they arrived downstairs, Maria saw a large gift on the table. It was wrapped elegantly in silver wrapping paper and white ribbon, and it was topped off by a huge white bow.

Maria was surprised, not only because the box was as large as their table, but because they didn't buy gifts for each other on their anniversary. They usually exchanged letters and gave each other a new picture of themselves with Hope. Then they carried those with them until the next year.

Maria had written the first letter and given the first picture for their fourth anniversary, the first after Hope was born. Steve had been so deep in his depression then that every special date, birthday, anniversary, was a trigger for him and she had simply wanted to reassure him and give him some hope.

She'd second guessed her idea when he'd choked up and left the room. But, later that night, she had noticed it under his pillow, and about a week later she'd seen him pull it out of his pocket with his wallet.

The next year, Steve had written her a letter and given her a picture of himself with Hope. She had carried them with her and found herself often pulling them out when she had a moment of free time at work.

Now it was simply what they did, so any gift would have been a surprise to her.

She glanced at Steve and raised an eyebrow in question.

He only shrugged.

"I wanted to give this to you and our anniversary seemed like the right time," he told her.

She walked over to the table and began to unwrap the enormous box. Steve walked around to the other side and pulled out his phone.

She glared at him.

"If you're taking pictures I'm going to go shower and dress," she said.

"Oh, come on, it's just one," he informed her.

"One?"

"Yeah, I just wanna capture your face when you open it," he said.

Maria stopped unwrapping the present.

"What is it?" she asked, suspicious now.

"Something you'll love."

He smiled, but it didn't assure her in the least.

"If you send a picture to Tony or Bucky, you'll be sleeping on the sofa for a month," she told him.

The look he gave her was smoldering and made her want to skip the gift, grab a Power Bar, and go back to bed.

"Alone," she said.

That wiped the look off his face. But he smiled, more amused than anything.

"Right," he laughed. "As if you could last a month."

She allowed herself a blush and gave in to the smile that came to her face. He was right. She couldn't last a month, she could barely last a day.

Finally, she started to open the gift.

The box turned out to be a wood crate. It appeared to need a crowbar to open. Well, it would if she didn't have a super soldier on hand.

Steve opened it easily to reveal the packing material. Maria put her hands in and cautiously felt around. Steve had his phone ready to take her picture when she saw the thing and if his smile was any indication, he was quite proud of this gift. That only served to make her nervous.

Her hand found something solid and she felt it for a moment, trying to guess what it was. It seemed to be long, almost the length of the box, but she couldn't really tell.

"Pull it out," Steve said.

His excitement was barely contained. Maria had a feeling he was going to enjoy whatever this gift was more than she.

Taking a deep breath, and reminding herself to be charitable, she did love her husband after all, she pulled it out.

In the end, Maria got the last laugh with the photo, which caught a terribly nasty glare she gave the photographer. Video probably would have been better because it would have caught Steve laughing his head off as she pulled out a tall lamp, shaped like Captain America's leg.

His laughter finally started to become contagious and Maria allowed herself an amused smirk.

"Whatever gave you the idea that I wanted such a thing?" she asked.

Steve had the nerve to act affronted.

"You asked for it," he said.

She looked at him in disbelief.

"I think I would remember asking," Maria paused, then started to laugh. She couldn't get the words out, they were too absurd.

Steve shook his head at her.

"Christmas Eve," he said. "We watched A Christmas Story with Hope before she went to bed."

Maria tried to think back but she realized now that the night was slightly hazy. Asgardian mead, even watered down,apparently packed quite a punch.

"I was drunk," she accused.

Though she knew her face wasn't very angry. Even the thought of the stupid lamp was causing her to giggle uncontrollably.

"Yes," he said. "But you know, 'In Vino Veritas' and all."

"More like 'In Vino Stultum*,'" Maria laughed.

"You really don't remember?"

Steve was starting to look less amused and more concerned.

Maria shook her head then walked around the table to him.

"But I'm sure it's an entertaining story," she assured him as she kissed him.

She walked around him to the refrigerator to get the eggs and some ham to cook up for breakfast but he pulled her back to him.

"I was thinking we could maybe have some ice cream for breakfast," he said as he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Maria cocked an eyebrow at him and stared for a moment as if assessing him.

"I was thinking more along the lines of _whipped_ cream," she said as she opened the door and attempted to reach inside to grab a can of whipped cream.

"Uh-uh," he said, grabbing her arm quickly. "Play fair."

"Why, Captain, are you inferring that I ever don't?"

The smirk he leveled made her laugh.

"Alright," she said then reached in and grabbed two cans.

She handed one to him and removed the cap from hers.

"Rules?" she asked.

"There are no rules in love and whipped cream wars," he said.

His lips ghosted hers as he attempted to be serious, but Maria could see the desire in his eyes.

She placed her hand on his chest as they gazed into each other's eyes, then used his distraction to her advantage as she sprayed a good dollop through the opening in his robe.

Steve jumped back in surprise and Maria ducked around the table and the crate to hide before chancing another shot, this time at his feet. Then she darted off into the living room but Steve followed quickly and when he grabbed her he sprayed some whipped cream down the back of her robe. Maria twisted and elbowed him in the gut, then jumped over the sofa to use the back as a barrier and peeked back over to where she left Steve.

"Dang," she said when she saw he was already gone. She started to turn, knowing he'd be behind her.

"Such language," Steve gasped in mock horror.

Then there was a spray of whipped cream on the side of her face and Steve jumped away before she could return fire.

Another ten minutes and both cans were spent. Another thirty minutes and both people were.

Maria figured she was always the winner in this game. Though Steve's shots hit their target more often, the clean-up was in her favor.

As they lay tangled together on the living room floor, Steve's head rested on Maria's chest and she ran her fingers through his hair.

"I'm so glad I married you," she said.

He looked up at her and rested his chin on his hand.

"Well, that's good," he smiled lazily at her. "Coz you're kinda stuck with me, since I'm happy I married you."

"So, are you going to tell me the story of the lamp?" she asked.

"Sure," he said. "How about over breakfast?"

"Where are we going to eat?" she laughed. "There's a huge crate holding a stupid leg lamp on the table."

Steve looked back at the table.

"Why do we have to eat off the table?" he asked.

When he turned back to her, there was a look of deep desire already returning to his eyes.

"Why do we have to eat off plates?" he asked.

She returned the look for a moment, then smirked.

"I'm never going to hear this story, am I?"

_*stultum = stupid in Latin (that's what I found online, my son says they haven't had that word in his Latin program yet, so he was no help. :D)_

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Snowflakes Are Dancing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2496032) by [ChElFi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChElFi/pseuds/ChElFi)




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